Poem
Jen Hadfield
THOU SHALT WANT WANT WANT
THOU SHALT WANT WANT WANT
THOU SHALT WANT WANT WANT
It is in heaven as it is on thy neighbour’s deck,a plume-tailed cat, a noodle-legged tin table.
It is in heaven as it is in the dry country,
nailed all over with painted signs:
Antiques OPEN.
Thou shalt covet WARMBLOODS, ARABIANS.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour’s horse
and thou shalt covet thy neighbour’s land.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour,
crawling along the apex with a blue tarp in tow.
Thou shalt covet bandsaws and braziers, longbows and throwing knives,
parlour guitars, parlous shovels snuffling three feet of snow.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour,
planting a spittoon for the rain to hawk into
or standing over the piano stool
to play his crazy pirate waltzes.
Thou shalt want want want.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour’s ass.
Thou shalt covet polkas, quails,
painted pitchforks, a picket fence, a dutch barn
a chafing dish, a bain marie,
a kid, a civet, a trivet,
thou shalt covet a bodkin, an empire pram.
A pony’s cock hanging crooked from its belly like a razor clam.
It is on earth as it is in the dry country.
Ginseng under black marquee.
A cloister of spray hanging above the wheel-line.
Cattle holed up under the jackpines.
© 2006, Jen Hadfield
Jen Hadfield
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1978)
Nothing is permanent in the poetry of Jen Hadfield (‘I don’t know what it is / about this place that things / metaflower so readily / into their present selves’). With a meticulous, sober gaze, she watches how everything around her sprouts and grows, buds and creeps into everything else. Her poems might be about the rugged nature in northern Shetland where she lives (‘the scrambling twig / hern...
Poems
Poems of Jen Hadfield
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THOU SHALT WANT WANT WANT
It is in heaven as it is on thy neighbour’s deck,a plume-tailed cat, a noodle-legged tin table.
It is in heaven as it is in the dry country,
nailed all over with painted signs:
Antiques OPEN.
Thou shalt covet WARMBLOODS, ARABIANS.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour’s horse
and thou shalt covet thy neighbour’s land.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour,
crawling along the apex with a blue tarp in tow.
Thou shalt covet bandsaws and braziers, longbows and throwing knives,
parlour guitars, parlous shovels snuffling three feet of snow.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour,
planting a spittoon for the rain to hawk into
or standing over the piano stool
to play his crazy pirate waltzes.
Thou shalt want want want.
Thou shalt covet thy neighbour’s ass.
Thou shalt covet polkas, quails,
painted pitchforks, a picket fence, a dutch barn
a chafing dish, a bain marie,
a kid, a civet, a trivet,
thou shalt covet a bodkin, an empire pram.
A pony’s cock hanging crooked from its belly like a razor clam.
It is on earth as it is in the dry country.
Ginseng under black marquee.
A cloister of spray hanging above the wheel-line.
Cattle holed up under the jackpines.
THOU SHALT WANT WANT WANT
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